In My Forearms

My love lies trenched in my forearms
Darting back and forth beneath darkened skin.
If you were to touch below my elbows,
You might feel a pulse among the hair and lines,
But it would take a caress as knowing as yours once were
To draw the emotion from the muscle.
My tissues do not thud with flooding love today.
In my long search for new hands,
I have met some who convince me they can arouse my love.
I bring it to them, and it retreats.
Beneath wrinkles, beneath the sun’s work,
Lie the memories and hope of love.